NikkiErik oneshots
by Partners in Fanfiction
Summary: Oneshots based off our Erik/OC fanfic "Of Monsters and Angels." A look on married life, raising kids, being musicians and other cool stuff Nikki and Erik do in modern-day New Orleans! Rating subject to change once we do other stuff
1. The One Where They Go To Target

**Our first NikkixErik oneshot! Yay!**

**Summary: Erik, Nikki and little Monique go to Target where the checkout dude gets starstruck.**

**Rated: K**

**Enjoy!**

**-Julie and Janet**

The high point of my day happened at four o'clock. A black woman with a toddler in the kid seat of the cart she was pushing, along with a pale man a head taller than she was with peculiar scars covering half of his face started stocking the conveyer belt with a strange mix of stuff, including the entire first season of Diff'Rent Strokes, some Yankee Candles, our most expensive string lights, a few books probably for the kid, a black ink cartridge, Listerine and men's slippers. There was more, just saying it was oddly random. The man's eyes wandered as the woman watched me blankly scan the items and put them in bags like the robot I often turned into within three hours of my five-hour shift. I realized I forgot to ask if they found everything okay, so I said, "You find everything okay?"

"Yup," she said. "'Cept we didn't find any DVDs for The Monkees's crappy show."

The man scoffed and looked at her. "It's the one television abomination with decent music I've ever seen."

She looked back at me and pointed at him with her thumb. "He doesn't like Glee."

"Neither do you, Nicole," he almost hissed.

"Nope, not really," she sighed, leaning her elbows against the cart as the man went to put the bags in the cart. The toddler put her hands on the woman's forehead and she shut her eyes tightly. "Gaaaah, my face," she groaned, causing the toddler to giggle.

"What have I told you about using your throat like that?" the man scolded, having heard.

The woman sighed and smiled. "If I do it too much they'll autotune me and you'll run off with Monique. You make your point quite vividly."

I furrowed my eyebrows but continued to scan stuff because I'm not supposed to get into the business of customers. Anyway, I finished scanning stuff and asked the woman, "Cash or credit?"

She reached into her shoulder bag and pulled out a wallet, then a credit card. She pushed the cart forward a little to zip it but before she could touch it the man stopped her. "Listen," he breathed.

Shauna, the extroverted lady in the checkout counter in front of me, exclaimed, "Oh my god, I love this song!" and began to "shake it."

The woman zipped her credit card and did the necessary signing, all the while smirking with the man as the toddler tried to clap her hands. I recognized the song as a cover of _Break My Stride_ by Nicole Destler, then looked at the screen to find the name on the credit card...Nicole Destler. I looked her in the eye and asked her, "Is this…" I pointed to the ceiling, since nobody knows where the music flooding the store actually comes from. "You?"

"Sure is," she said as the receipt printed.

I tore it and handed it to her. "Uh…" I muttered. "Have a nice day...and thanks for shopping at Target."

"You betcha," she replied. She pointed her index finger and thumbs at me and clicked her tongue twice. The toddler smiled and waved at me as she said to the man, who I recognized as her manager/husband Erik Destler, "Let's roll."

Next was a man who had a less fuller cart. He asked me before I could ask him if he found everything okay, "Was that Nicole and Erik Destler?"

I looked up at him from my scanning and realized I was looking at Brad Pitt.

**More to come!**


	2. The One Where Nikki's Hair Goes Crazy

**Lookie lookie! 'Nother one!**

**Summary: Erik awakes to an agitated Nikki because her hair is out of control thanks to the previous night's bedroom activities and he's forced to fix it**

**Rated: T, PG-13 because of intimate moments and lotsa language. Very Nikki**

**Enjoy!**

**-Jessie and Janet**

Erik awoke to the sound of an agitated screech and kept his eyes closed due to the stinging of the New Orleans sunrise in his eyes. He turned away from it and stood up, his eyes recovering from the sting. The adjacent bathroom door was open, and he could see Nicole struggling with a hairbrush, her hair all over the place. She noticed him in the mirror and turned to face him, dropping her hands. The hairbrush stayed stuck to her head. "You. You did this to me," she hissed.

"I beg your pardon?" he replied.

She walked towards him, the hairbrush flying behind her but not falling off her head. She stuck her index finger on the tip of his nose and snapped, "You fucked my brains out and messed up my hair. Benita's not answering her goddamn phone and my hair looks like a big ebony birds nest 'cause of all the sweat and your claws."

` He didn't understand. "And…?" he muttered

She groaned. "Bad hair days suck for black chicks." She turned away from him and crossed her arms. "You wouldn't understand."

He peered over at the digital clock on a nightstand. It wasn't even seven A.M. "Benita isn't answering her phone because she's probably passed out drunk. It's Sunday morning and she's a party animal."

She sighed. "Well, today's just not Nikki's day."

He narrowed his eyes at the back of her head and managed to peel off the hairbrush without getting a grunt or whimper out of her. She dropped her arms and turned her head to look at the hairbrush in his hand. "Holy shit, how'd you do that?"  
He smirked at her and used her common excuse. "Magic."

She pouted. "That's my line." She turned all the way and pushed him onto the bed. "Well, you made this mess, and you're magical, so fix it, huh?"

"As you wish," he breathed.

She sat beside his left on the bed and fluffed her hair back. "Try not to tug too hard."

She was too far. With his left hand he pulled her closer. She turned her head and smirked at him and put herself partially on his lap. He began to slide the brush gently down the length of her raven hair. He didn't think he was tugging, but her neck leaned back and she let out a sigh. "Did I tug?" he asked.

"No, no," she said. "Not unbearably. It just fell."

He continued to slide the brush down thin sections of her hair and reached a large knot. She let out a quiet grunt. "Tension," she said.

He lifted her head and held it still upright. The section unknotted. He felt her smirk. "Damn, Erik, you are magic."

He leaned forward and grazed his fingers on the side of her neck and felt the side of her hair to find it without knots. A noticeable shiver went down her spine, and he realized he was breathing against the exposed skin of her shoulder. "Well, this is an intimate task," she commented as he continued to brush, his hand gently holding onto her shoulder.

"Indeed," he agreed.

She chuckled. "You're so fancy." Her head tilted back again. The hand that was on her shoulder went to her chin and gently grasped it and pulled her neck to an upright position. "Hold still," he breathed against the crook of her neck and noticed another shiver.

"Kinda hard, you sensious zombie," she scoffed.

He scowled behind her back but continued to brush gently down her head. "For the last time, Nicole, I am not a zombie."

Her head leaned way back as he released an untangled section of her hair and she made eye contact with him. "Then what are you?"

"I don't know," he seemed to repeat for the thousandth time. His hand moved to her cheek and pushed her neck upright. "Almost done," he muttered, continuing to work.

She kept her neck still and made no noise as he finished. He made sure he got all the tangles and knots out before he said, "There. Untangled." Her shoulder, covered by a spaghetti strap of a camisole only, was exposed because he put her hair behind her ear. He pressed his smooth lips against it as she peeked in the mirror across the bed in the bathroom at herself. "But beautiful all the same," he whispered.

"Well, well done," she said. Suddenly she flipped around and got on top of him in a lying position and her smooth fingers went down the uncovered and vulnerable deformed side of his face. "I'm glad you're comfortable maskless," she breathed. She kissed the rough patch of skin, pressing her hand against the better side, then moved to his lips. They kissed until they both ran out of breath and she released him. Panting, she said, "Morning sex?" She finished panting and her lips curved up into a mischievous smile.

He smirked back. "I don't see why not," he replied, turning her over on the bed so he was now on top.

He gently pressed his lips against her throat and she said as she moaned, "Just don't fuck with the hair or you'll have to fix it again."


	3. The One Where Erik Does Alice Cooper

**_When I get home from work,_**

**_I want to wrap myself around you._**

**_I want to take you and squeeze you_**

**_till the passion starts to rise._**

She waits for me at night when I leave, no matter how hard she's worked all day. She's awake, and she's waiting for me with a smile. A smile, all of her own. One of many parts of her I've fallen in love with

**_We share a bed,_**

**_some lovin',_**

**_and TV, yeah._**

**_And that's enough for a workin' man._**

**_What I am is what I am._**

**_And I tell you, babe,_**

**_well that's enough for me._**

"Why do you wait up?" I asked her once as she turned off the television in the bedroom.

"Why not?" she replied.

I turned away from her and took off my mask. "Is that all you have to say?" I asked without turning to face her again. I just waited, facing the wall. I didn't hear her bare feet walk a few paces across the carpet. I knew she was behind me only when she touched my shoulder and brought her fingers up to the previously hidden part of my face.

"Because sleeping alone is too mainstream," she said, and she guided me to the bed.

******_Sometimes when you're asleep_**

**_and I'm just starin' at the ceiling,_**

**_I want to reach out and touch you,_**

**_but you just go on dreamin'._**

She's able to go right to sleep, while I suffer from what she calls "zombie insomnia" because she thinks I'm a zombie. She lies on her side, her back facing me. Bare sometimes. Sometimes temptation overpowers me and I allow myself to feel her, warm and soft and beautiful. She doesn't stir, but I always worry that I'll wake her. She doesn't know this.

**_If I could take you to heaven,_**

**_that would make my day complete._**

**_You and me ain't no super stars._**

**_What we are is what we are._**

**_We share a bed,_**

**_some popcorn,_**

**_and TV, yeah._**

**_And that's enough for a workin' man._**

**_What I am is what I am._**

**_And I tell you, babe,_**

_**you're just enough for me**_

Once she made me watch some film about a doll who kills people. I wasn't sure if it was supposed to be funny or scary because they tried and failed. Normally at these sort of things I tend to rant about the flaws I find, but this time I couldn't. She just put herself on my lap with a bowl of popcorn on hers, popping it bit by bit into her mouth. As a man fell to his death on the television she asked me, "Am I squashing you with my butt?"

"You're perfect," was my reply.

**_When I get home from work,_**

**_I want to wrap myself around you._**

**_I like to hold you squeeze you_**

_**till the passion starts to rise.**_

She comes home later this time and found me on the piano. She stares at me blankly, like she claims I do when she hits a flat note. "Were you just playing Alice Cooper, Mr. Destler?" she asked.

"It's possible," was my reply.

She dropped the bags she was holding and approached the piano. Once she was by the bench she pounced on me, throwing me to the floor, smashing her lips against mine.

**_I want to take you to heaven._**

**_That would make my day complete._**

"I like Alice Cooper," she said with a smile. "You should play Alice Cooper more."


End file.
